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Psalm 46

Psalm 46


A new world comes

And some would say

It’s here


By your hand, we might

Live in better days


The images we make

For politics or



Are wrung through

With shiny fakery


I think our new day

Will arrive,




When we learn to say

I love you to the ground

And to the air


And to the wind we

Cannot see but truly

Feel and have:


When we learn the

Value of unseen things,


We can say I love you

To each other


Then your new day is





Slowly the manta ray

Unfolds and undulates

Descending, like an eagle


Of the air, through

Updrafts of ocean water


What it seeks I cannot

See, because its urgencies

Are defined so differently


Fill hunger?  Slake thirst

That, in water, I cannot



Or fly for delight in flight,

Ripping, tearing through

Sea currents, even while


Negotiating their fury


Can I fly as slowly as the

Ray?  Must I?


Two ways of asking this,

I know: Must I not?  Must

I not?


May I?  And, if so,


Will I?


How much of creatures’

Movements, I wonder,

Depend on will

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